


Not So Simple

by writingat205am



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Hurt Sherlock, POV Sherlock Holmes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 11:03:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14259564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingat205am/pseuds/writingat205am
Summary: It's been two years since Sherlock died and he's excited to to see you again now that he has returned to London, but will your reunion really be as simple as he thought it'd be?**Posted from my tumblr: (https://writing-at-205am.tumblr.com/)





	Not So Simple

**Author's Note:**

> Words: 1,700  
> Characters/Relationships: Reader x Sherlock  
> Warnings: Depression, Anxiety, Death, Hallucinations  
> Author’s Notes: One of my works I’ve posted on tumblr (https://regiumscripturam.tumblr.com/)

Sherlock was baffled; and Sherlock was never baffled (he claims). You weren’t responding to him at all! He’d been gone for years and now he’s trailing behind you, brows furrowed, and calling your name, but instead of a happy (possibly tearful) reunion like he expected you just walked right past him!

“Y/N!” he called again, running towards your figure. Sherlock skidded to a stop in front of you, panting slightly, as he tried to look into your eyes. Half a second. For half a second, maybe less, he managed to get you to make eye contact before you began walking faster than before. Everything had been hard after Sherlock had died, but you had had faith, so much bloody faith in Sherlock. Tears welled in your eyes, and you bit your lip desperately trying not to break down in the middle of the street.

“Please…. Please just stop… You were finally not here anymore!” You said. Sherlock stopped walking and blinked. His let out a breath into the cold London air, watching you walk away. His eyes were soft as his own tears pooled in the corners of eyes. He sniffed, cleared his throat, and stared at your figure, now just a small blob.

———————————————————————————————————————

2 Years Ago

Your hand trembled as your fingers slowly wound their way around a lock of hair, it was still damp from the rain. You shook your head to clear your thoughts and took small steps toward the kitchen. It was cluttered, messy, and stank of chemicals from experiments. The tile felt cold as you reached up to get cups for tea. You took two down from the cupboard. Two teabags. A little milk for Sherlock. Sherlock! He’d want biscuits probably. You reached into the fridge, slightly wincing from the coldness, and wrapped your hand around the biscuit dough container. You began placing the little wads onto a baking sheet when John hesitantly walked in.

“Y/N?” he said softly. The older man shuffled awkwardly in the doorway of the kitchen. It was so hard for him to be here, but after what Mrs. Hudson had told him, he fought down his feelings in order to be here for you.

“Oh hello John!” you said, closing the door of the oven, you moved the whistling kettle and looked over once more, “Sherlock didn’t tell me you’d be back, told me you were with that beautiful lady from before, what was her name again Sherlock?”

John’s eyes widened in horror, as he realized what Mrs.Hudson had meant. “Y/N…” he mumbled so so softly.

“Yes John? You’ve said my name a lot this morning,” You said smiling while pouring a little milk in one teacup. “Oh! Poured a little too much milk in Sherlock’s cup.”

“Y/N. Why are you making a cup of tea for Sherlock?”, John asked carefully.

“Why, if I didn’t try to feed him God only knows what state that man would be in! Want a cuppa too?” You had set down the two cups in the living room and turned to face John.

John took a shaky breath and looked into your eyes. “Y/N could you sit down?” he asked delicately. You looked to Sherlock sitting in his chair and looked back at John.

“Ok.” You replied sitting next to John on the sofa.

“Y/N… what do you remember from yesterday?” John studied your face as he asked. All he could do was try to play the doctor right now.

“What do you mean? Why are you asking?” Your breath was shallow and your eyes wide.

“I’m just here to make sure you’re alright. How have you been?”

“Same as usual. Though Sherlock’s eyeballs are really taking up space on the kitchen table, don’t you agree?”

John sighed, and ran his hand through his hair and went back to studying you. You were smiling brightly, head tilted a little, and hands playing with your skirt. He noticed you hadn’t changed since yesterday.

“Y/N, Sherlock’s funeral was yesterday.”

Your breath stilled and your hands stopped fidgeting in your lap. “John, what are you talking about… Sherlock is sitting in his seat right there?” You let out a nervous laugh and stared right into Sherlock’s eyes.

“I don’t think so…Y/N, Sherlock was on the building… remember?” He took your hands in his and moved closer.

“John … oh god… John” You whispered brokenly. You hid your face in his shoulder and sobbed. “John I can still see him there… “

“Shh. Shh. It’s alright. I promise it’s gonna be ok. I’m right here.” He took you into his arms and gently rubbed your back as he desperately tried to make sense of your hallucinations. Your sobbing slowly subsided and you fell asleep. John looked around and noticed how nothing had changed. You hadn’t been sleeping, and surely not eating. It was just then he noticed many uneaten piles of biscuits and cups of tea with just the right amounts of milk in it around the flat. He realized with a choked sob that the only reason you had poured a bit too much milk this morning was because your hand trembled from your lack of sleep. He looked down at you and saw the dark circles and messy hair with a heavy heart

—————————————————————————————————————————

Back to the Present

With a wandering mind, Sherlock discovered he his feet had found their way back to 221B Baker Street. He rocked back and forth in as he stared at the door. Sentiment got the best of the detective as he noticed the slightly crooked knocker and the light on in the window. He missed the smell of Speedy’s and could faintly hear the sound of Mrs. Hudson’s music and life in London. With a heavy sigh he opened the door and stepped back into his flat. His eyes glanced around the room and noticed that you hadn’t been here in awhile, some of your things were gone but his was untouched.

“Sherlock!” John panted, running into the room. “I’ve been calling you after you left that deli… please tell me you haven’t seen Y/N yet.”

“I appreciate that you had the intention of trying to take my feelings into consideration, but I have seen her… and it’s clear she has moved on and is doing very well…without me,” Sherlock said curtly turning around to face him.

“What on bloody earth are you talking about?” John yelled.

“Must I really break this down for you. I might’ve been gone but I promise I haven’t become dull.” Sherlock responded. “Shoes. Gone. Clothes. Gone. Suitcase, rolled across the floor in an attempt to leave quickly, the skid marks are right there. There’s dust everywhere and Y/N… hates dust. The kitchen has dishes piled up in it, something Y/N would never have allowed, and the milk in the fridge is spoiled… I can smell it all the way from here.” He finished with a huff and sat down in his chair.

John sighed and looked away, his hand settled on his hip in frustration as he let out a snort.

“Is this funny to you?” Sherlock asked, eyebrow arched.

“Not exactly,” John replied sitting down across from him.

At this point you had slowly walked up the stairs to 221B your earbuds were in and on full volume, there was no way you would be hearing his voice again. You looked up as you took your shoes off and saw John and him sitting in their chairs. It felt so familiar you slid down against the wall and covered your mouth with your hand as you began crying.

“Christ. I should’ve been more careful … Y/N… Y/N it’s ok.” John whispered as he jumped out of his chair and began to comfort you. Sherlock watched the scene from his chair, feeling irritated.

John looked back at Sherlock, “You just going to sit there you bloody idiot?” Sherlock twitched and he blinked a few times. You suddenly stopped crying and looked at John in sheer terror.

“You… you see him too?” you said. John almost didn’t hear you, he looked back over and gently patted your shoulder.

“He’s really back Y/N. I promise this isn’t a hallucination.”

Sherlock’s eyes suddenly widened and his head snapped to look at you. You finally made eye contact with him. He slowly moved over to the doorway where you were sitting and gently sat down next to you. He finally took in your appearance. You were much paler, your face looked a bit gaunt, hair not as vibrant, your clothes looked loose and he finally saw your hand.

A bracelet. Paper. Like the ones that patients had to wear. His mind raced a thousand miles an hour as he realized why you hadn’t been living here. He shakily took your hand in his and he never broke eye contact.

“Y/N, if you’re alright I’ll go check up on Mrs. Hudson….” said John. You nodded still looking into Sherlock’s eyes. John moved towards the door and the flat was silent.

Sherlock blinked once slowly and looked down in shame. “I’m sorry … I’m so sorry” he gasped out. You bit your lip and suddenly threw your arms around his neck as you sobbed into his shoulder. He hugged you back and gently petted your hair as a few tears slipped down his cheeks, you were so much thinner, and he felt guilty for what he had done to you.. Your sobs slowly subsided and you moved back to look at him.

“I thought… I thought I was seeing you again… I didn’t think-”

“It’s ok… I understand now.” He cut you off. “Let me help you up.” His hand gently encased yours as he lifted you with ease. One of his hands gently brushed against your jaw as he leaned in. His kiss was gentle, as if he was afraid he’d hurt you more. He softly parted and hugged you. “Please… forgive me.” You nodded against his chest with your arms still tightly wrapped around him.

And for the first night in a very, very long time; you slept soundly.


End file.
